Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Samoa and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Cal Tjader to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faust,
World's Most,
Gastr Del Sol,
Erasure,
Shoche,
Althea and Donna,
Bob Dylan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang of Four,
Isaac Hayes,
Fatback Band,
Malaria!,
One Last Wish,
Lakeside,
Blake Baxter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
The Litter,
the Soft Cell,
New York Dolls,
Sun City Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cure,
Kas Product,
Minny Pops,
Dennis Brown,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacques Brel,
The Gun Club,
Peter and Kerry,
Blancmange,
Brand Nubian,
The Gories,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick May,
Reuben Wilson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Machine,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Ultra Naté,
Vainqueur,
The Techniques,
The Modern Lovers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yazoo,
Angry Samoans,
Vladislav Delay,
Severed Heads,
Black Bananas,
John Lydon,
Toni Rubio,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.